


And the Sun Will Set for You

by arthurmarston



Series: One-shots [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canonical Character Death, End of game spoilers, High Honor Arthur Morgan, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Secret Relationship, Spirit Animal, final mission, follows in game dialogue, im sorry, it’s sad, rdr2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthurmarston/pseuds/arthurmarston
Summary: John goes back to try and save Arthur.—“You weren’t ever a good listener, John Marston.” Arthur replied back, a sad laugh leaving John, the man nodding into the calloused hand still grasping at his cheek.“No, and you weren’t ever good at keeping me away.”—





	And the Sun Will Set for You

There was no escaping the inevitable; each step felt like it was leading closer to the end. It had been months of build up to lead to this exact moment, and deep down, they both knew it wasn’t going to end well. 

But even so, they ran for their lives like they still had a shot. Still had faith. Faith in something real. Only, like always, faith was a fabricated lie pulled over the truth like a sheer bed sheet. If you squinted hard enough at the sheet, or in this case, looked back far enough in the distance, you could see the ugly truth right beneath the surface. 

But they’d lived off faith now for so many months that it was hard to not pretend for just once that it would actually mean something. 

“Alright, Arthur, come on. Let’s go.” John pleaded, voice heavy as he turned back on his heels, suddenly not hearing the man behind him moving. 

Arthur was bent over at the waist, wheezing and attempting to suppress his coughing. “You go,” he mustered out between gags.

“Keep pushing, Arthur.” John urged, gripping tightly at his shoulder that had been shot just hours earlier. All he could see was Arthur - the ends of his vision felt blurry. Maybe it was the blood loss. Maybe it was just all in his head. 

“No...” Arthur gasped out, “no.” He shook his head, going to spit some of the blood that he’d managed to cough up. “I think I’ve pushed all I can.”

John felt his heart stop at those words, not wanting to accept them. “Come on.” He tried again, voice much more urgent. 

“You go.” Arthur said firmly, wiping at his mouth. 

“We ain’t got time for this, not now.” John took a few steps back, feeling the burning in his lungs and feeling the ache in his legs. But it didn’t matter. He’d carry Arthur if he had to.

“We ain’t both gonna make it. Go. I’ll hold them off.” His voice was weak but he was trying to be strong, standing up and removing his hat, John’s brows furrowing as he watched in silence. 

“It would mean a lot to me.” Arthur murmured, eyes never leaving John’s as he stepped closer to the man, moving to place his hat onto John’s head, a hand clasping the younger’s opposite shoulder. “Please.” 

John couldn’t speak, fighting back the tears as he stared at the man he loved. He didn’t want Arthur’s stupid hat, didn’t want none of it. He just wanted Arthur. 

“There ain’t no more time for talk. Go.” 

The words broke him from his stricken state, now finding his voice and pleading. “Arthur.” It was all he could say. 

“Go to your family.” Arthur’s voice was so heavy and the look in his eyes said it all. He was John’s family, too. In the last few months, they’d gotten so close... so intimate... that it felt ridiculous to even imagine a world without Arthur in it. 

“Arthur!” John was begging now, lip trembling and reaching out to grab the man, but Arthur kept himself away. 

“Get the hell out of here and be a goddamn man!” He was yelling now and John didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have the answers, the experience Arthur did... he didn’t have a plan anymore. He couldn’t force Arthur to go with him. 

“But I love you.” John said brokenly, desperate now. 

But love wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was too much. Maybe that’s why Arthur turned away and started up the mountain again. “I know.” He replied back, not even turning back. “I know...” And that was it. 

John stared, eyes swollen with tears now but he wouldn’t let Arthur know. Wouldn’t make a sound. He shifted between his feet, thinking to himself of what he should do now. If he ran up that mountain to chase after Arthur, he knew Arthur would just fight back. He’d find that last little bit of strength and send John away. He knew it. And so he started running away, back down the side of the mountain to go and find Abigail and his son. 

It felt like a war going on in his head. Every instinct within him told him to turn back - to go and save Arthur. Even as he heard the sounds of gunfire breaking out in the distance, he ran faster in the opposite direction, feeling a lot more like a coward than a man. 

He pushed through every limit he had and when he felt himself hit that cement wall that told him to give up, he pushed even more and blasted through it. His legs felt like they were going to buckle at the knees and his lungs felt like they were going to implode on themselves, but he did exactly what Arthur had wanted of him. And all the while, he made sure Arthur’s hat never fell from his head. 

And then he stopped. Stopped so harshly that he nearly sent himself tumbling over his own feet. “What am I doing...” He asked himself, words muffled between gags for air as he hunched over and attempted to catch his breath. “I need to go back, I need to...” He was talking aloud, eyes darting around wildly as he realized he’d ran away from Arthur in his time of need. All he could see was trees; trees everywhere and darkness. It was suffocating. 

“Arthur!” John gasped out as he turned on his heels and headed back towards the mountain, “I’m coming!” 

It felt like the world was ending, like every step John took forward, the world behind him was caving in and falling away. His hair was nearly stuck to his forehead from the sweat, but he never stopped. Even when he had tripped and ripped his knee open on a bed of rocks, he got right back up and took off, limping and bleeding, but never faltering. The pain in his shoulder was nonexistent; it didn’t matter that there was a bullet lodged deep in his muscle tissue - the only thing that mattered was getting to Arthur as quickly as possible. 

Gunshots rang out. 

John ran faster, heart pounding in his chest. 

Gunshots again, this time louder and more distinct. 

John felt like he could die. 

And then silence. Pure, agonizing silence. 

John was at the base of the landing again, where he’d last seen Arthur... before the two had said their goodbyes... but there was no sign of anyone or anything. Even as he began scaling the mountain and climbing up, he heard nothing. Fear had settled into his stomach, churning within him and causing John to shake. 

“Arthur!” He said now, loud and desperate as he reached the top and saw no signs of the older man. His steps were slow, silent and careful as he peered around. A gasp left him when he saw a gun on the floor - Arthur’s cattleman. And then he saw the blood and a hand went to his mouth to silent the sob that so desperately wanted to escape. “Arthur...” He repeated, words getting caught in his chest as he bent to examine the gun. 

“John...?” 

The long-haired man shot up, turning on his heels now and gasping out as he saw Arthur far out on the edge of the cliff, laying stiffly on his back, blood pooled around him. 

“Arthur! I’m here! I came back!” John cried out as he stumbled over to the body, collapsing into a heap on the floor and then reaching to pull Arthur’s body somewhat into his lap. 

“You came back...” Arthur mumbled back, coughing up blood that trickled down his chin, John immediately using the back of his palm to wipe it away. The blood smeared and John choked back a cry. He could see the bruises and swelling - Arthur’s one eye had gone completely shut from whatever had happened to him. And his mouth, his lips... they were nearly purple. 

“What happened? What did they do to you?” John asked as the tears fell, Arthur reaching a trembling hand up to cradle at John’s cheek, the younger man pressing his face into the touch and clamping his eyes shut. 

“Micah got me good. Dutch came. Didn’t do nuthin’ for me... just watched me bleed. And then the Pinkertons... chased ‘em away from the ridge... and I crawled over here and they never came back...” Arthur whispered out, occasionally trying to raise his voice but lowering it immediately when it would crack. Each breath he took was labored and heavy, more blood following each wheeze. “I tried, John. I did. Couldn’t get back up.”

“You tried, Arthur. That matters more.” John murmured back, biting at his lip as he continued to try and wipe away the blood. But it was everywhere now, all over his own hands, too. 

“Dutch left me to die. I don’t know what I did to deserve it...” Arthur coughed, turning his face away in attempts to shield John from any possible contamination. “Micah ran away to go get the money and then Dutch left me here, didn’t even say a word. He knew Micah were the rat. I know he knew. I gave him my life and he took it away.”

“I’ll find him, Arthur. I’ll find them both. If it’s the last thing I do.” John said between gritting teeth, jaw tense. 

“If I could get down from this mountain, I’d go and find them myself.” The older man sighed, rubbing small circles into John’s cheek, attempting to get him to relax. 

“I don’t think I can get you down from here...” He admitted, causing Arthur to smile faintly. 

“No. Don’t think so.” There was the slightest hint of humor in his voice, and it made John wince and his heart swell. 

“I know you told me to leave but I couldn’t. I ran so far... and then I turned ‘round...” John explained, though he knew at this point, Arthur probably didn’t care. It was nearly over. Nearly the end. 

“You weren’t ever a good listener, John Marston.” Arthur replied back, a sad laugh leaving John, the man nodding into the calloused hand still grasping at his cheek. 

“No, and you weren’t ever good at keeping me away.” 

“No...” Arthur choked out, shaking his head and closing his one eye that he still could see out of. He could feel the balance between life and death beginning to fall heavily to one side of the spectrum. But he remained quiet and stoic as he could. 

John lifted his hand up to cup at the back of Arthur’s palm that was against his cheek and gently peeled the hand away, bringing it to his lips so that he could press small kisses to each finger. Arthur remained silent and still, smiling just enough for John to know he hadn’t lost the man just yet. 

As John looked up and towards the end of the ridge, he could see the sun beginning to rise, squinting as the bright, golden hues began to peek through the horizon line. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a sunrise like this. He glanced back down at Arthur, stroking his fingers now through his hair, while Arthur began to cough heavily, body shaking from the force. 

“It’s okay, Arthur. It’s okay. You can let go.” He whispered down to the man, silently cursing to himself when his tears had hit Arthur’s face, causing the man to open his eye again and stare directly up at him. 

“Why are you crying, boy?” He asked, licking at his lips, to which John continued to look away, more tears falling despite his efforts. 

“Cuz I know I’m losing you and I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” John whimpered now, sniffling and lifting his free hand to wipe at his eyes. 

“Don’t cry over me, John.” Arthur pleaded, breath shallow and vision getting dark at the corners now. 

“But I love you, Arthur. I know we couldn’t ever be together - I know it ain’t right to love you, but I do. And I don’t wanna lose you. Not like this...” John was trembling, hand continuing to stroke through Arthur’s hair despite how frantically his heart was throbbing in his chest. 

Arthur could only sigh. “I love you, too, John. Don’t forget that, okay?” 

“Okay.” John mumbled, nodding his head and swallowing down a sob as the sun rose higher into the sky, the glow nearly unbearable as it flooded the atmosphere and engulfed everything it touched. 

Arthur’s face was orange from the glow, though it couldn’t hide all the bruises and the blood. He smiled up at John, “I think this is it... this is all I got left...” he murmured as he shifted his head in John’s lap, now turning himself towards the sun. 

John kept stroking at his hair, face red and hot as the tears kept falling. “I’ll see you on the other side...” he choked out, fingers never untangling from the man’s hair. They remained together in silence for a passing moment, John now looking down. “Arthur?” He asked, but there was no reply. “Arthur?” He tried again, this time more weary. He knew it was over but it didn’t stop him from shaking the man in his lap, gently trying to wake him. 

“Arthur... no...” he whimpered, “please, no. Don’t leave me.” He was hysterical as he realized Arthur was gone and he was alone up on the mountain now. Any bit of restraint he had was thrown out the window, the man openly weeping as he cradled Arthur’s body in his hands. Each sob rattled in his chest, louder than the last. He knew Arthur was going to die, and yet he couldn’t of prepared himself for the pain of it, even if he tried. 

“I won’t let this be in vain.” He said aloud as he pressed a kiss to Arthur’s forehead, knowing he shouldn’t, because after Arthur had been diagnosed, he wasn’t allowed to kiss the man anymore. But he couldn’t help himself... couldn’t stand to let their last moment together be without contact. 

Arthur’s forehead was cold... clammy... everything John had never remembered it to be. But even so, he’d keep that memory with him forever. 

“Until we meet again.” He whimpered out, allowing himself to sit there with Arthur in his lap until the sun reached its peak in the sky. He’d managed to speckle Arthur’s face in his tears and apologetically attempted to wipe them away. He knew he couldn’t stay here forever; he had to go find Abigail and Jack. They were still his family, even if the largest part of him died up here on the mountain. 

John pressed one more cautious kiss to Arthur’s forehead, this time letting himself linger there for a moment, before he finally pulled away and forced himself to stand up. He looked down at Arthur, sucking down a gulp as he attempted to lay his body flat - comfortably - overlooking the sunrise. He would have to come back with a horse and Charles to move his body and give him the proper burial he deserved. But for now, the sunrise, and the eventual sunset, would have to suffice. 

He wiped at his face one more time, sniffling and attempting to be the man Arthur had always told him to be. 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” He mumbled out before he started towards the base of the mountain again. Every once in awhile, he’d catch himself crying, and he’d curse to himself and quickly wipe his face. Nothing felt real anymore. Arthur had died and took every bit of hope with him. 

As he made his way through the trees and rocks, John suddenly noticed a large, graceful buck running alongside him on his right, and he swore their eyes locked. 

“Whoa, boy,” he gasped out as the buck ran directly into his path, nearly knocking him over in the process. Arthur’s hat had fallen from his head from the trip and John scrambled to grab for it, the buck plucking the leather brim up by its teeth and running off with it into the forest. 

“No!” John screamed as he chased after the buck, trying desperately to catch it. The two of them weaved through the forest, John getting so close that he could nearly reach out and touch the buck’s tail - but then the buck took a hard left and John missed a step and face planted into the rocks with a shout. 

“No, no, no!” He cried out as he slammed a fist into the rocks beneath him, struggling to get back to his feet. He was definitely roughed up, standing in place as he looked around for the large animal. He was back to a sobbing mess all over again - the pain of losing Arthur flooding back into him like waves against the shoreline. He couldn’t believe he’d just lost Arthur’s hat, screaming out into the woods for no one to hear. 

And then he heard the sound of hooves, head lifting immediately to the sight of the buck placing the hat delicately down on the forest floor a few feet ahead of him. John was speechless, mouth agape as he watched the buck blow a puff of smoke from its nostrils, eyes blue and wide and piercing in the strangest way. It flicked its ears a couple times, almost playfully, head tilting as it studied John. And then the buck turned away and took off on a separate path, vanishing into the forest. 

“Wait!” John called out as he attempted to take a few steps in the direction it had gone, but the beast had disappeared without a trace. He sniffled, wiping his nose on his dirty shirt sleeve, and then quietly stepped over to the hat. He picked Arthur’s hat up like he’d picked Jack up for the first time - carefully and with caution. He cradled the hat to his chest, attempting to settle his pounding heart. 

He didn’t know what had just happened. He’d never seen a buck behave like that before. And the eyes... he felt like he could’ve imagined the whole thing. He placed the hat back on his head, squishing it down hard so he wouldn’t lose it again. 

John kept running now, the sun high in the sky as the hours ticked by. His tears had dried but his mind was still filled with Arthur’s voice - everything he did was accompanied by Arthur’s commentary. Every place he passed that the two had been to, he could replay the memories - even see themselves as ghostly figures. He felt haunted; hollow and yet filled to the brim with emotion. It was the worst feeling in the world. He crossed the states as fast as he could, coming up on the pathway where he knew Abigail and Jack were supposed to be. What they didn’t know, however, was that he was coming. 

“John!” Abigail cried out suddenly as John arrived at Copperhead Landing, the man frantically running over to Jack and Abigail. The moment they met in the middle, John pulled his family into a tight embrace. 

Abigail was gasping between her tears, body shaking as John attempted to calm her cries. Jack was quiet, stoic... blissfully unaware. Abigail hadn’t begun to explain to the boy that his father wasn’t coming home yet. 

“I’m alive, I’m okay...” John said solemnly, his chest heavy. 

“Arthur told us you weren’t coming!” Abigail sobbed, John holding her tightly. 

“No... no... Dutch left me for dead on the train tracks. But I found my way back.” John explained, Abigail pulling away to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Arthur went looking for him and Micah. Sent Tilly and Jack here and then me with Sadie.” Abigail said as she stroked her fingers through John’s hair, suddenly noticing how pale his face was. “What happened?” She asked softly, looking down at Jack now, who was hugging onto John. 

“I tried to save Arthur.” John murmured out, biting at his lip. He wouldn’t dare be emotional around Abigail - he’d had plenty of time for that up in the mountains. He could never fully tell his family what Arthur was to him... Abigail would probably push him away in disgust if she knew the truth. And that was just something John would have to live with. He and Arthur were a secret and that’s how they’d always stay. 

Abigail was silent, hands falling away from John and cupping gently at Jack’s ears. The little boy immediately swatted the hands away, angrily looking up at his parents. 

“Where’s Uncle Arthur?” Jack asked with a stomp, Abigail frowning and looking to John. “Why do you have his hat, pa?”

John dipped down, dropping to one knee so that he could be level with his son. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Uncle Arthur’s waiting for the sun to set. He told me to wear it til he got back.” He whispered to Jack. 

The little boy gave a curious look, a pout on his face. “But the sun just rose.” The boy said, confused. 

John smiled sadly, echoing Arthur’s own words to him back on the mountain ridge. “I know.” He pressed a small kiss to Jack’s head and then stood, pulling Abigail back in for a hug, “I know...”

**Author's Note:**

> I have been wanting to do this for awhile and finally got around to putting this into existence. I always felt that the game’s ending where John and Arthur say goodbye (if you chose that path) seemed a bit lacking in emotion. And also gay cowboys. So here ya go! 😂
> 
> As always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
